


Burnin' Bed

by crazddreamer



Category: WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 01:29:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazddreamer/pseuds/crazddreamer
Summary: Dean and Reader have an agreement, but both want more





	Burnin' Bed

**Author's Note:**

> The struggle was REAL with this one, folks. Sexy time was hard to write, so its not my best. Sorry.
> 
> Inspiration: Burnin Bed by David Nail

A simple text was all it took for your body to light on fire.

_Tonight?_

That one word echoed in your head as you moved around your living room, lighting candles and tidying up. Truth be told, you were ready hours ago, the long soak in the tub not lasting near enough to kill time. The simple black lace over lay robe you wore was see through, hardly hiding the matching black corset and panties, and your skin was rosy pink scented with lavender lotion, his favorite. Your hair flowed free, hanging around your shoulders, brushing your skin in the way he liked, and your make up was light. Knowing him, your mascara would run down your cheeks within minutes of his arrival.

Soft music played over the speakers as you turned down the lights, casting a glance at the clock on the wall. It was 10:30. He could be here anytime, but there was no way to tell. There were never any calls between you, only quick texts, usually one-word questions and answers.

_Yes_

Of course, your answer had been yes. There was no way you would miss seeing him when he was in town. Plans were canceled, nail salon appointment hastily made, his favorite whiskey bought, you were on red alert for his arrival. At times you wondered if you were crazy, but then his hazel eyes would meet yours and you became a puddle of goo in his arms.

As you stood in the living room selecting the next song on the stereo, you heard a single car door slam shut. Immediately your heart picked up speed, slamming against your rib cage. Your body went cold with goosebumps, then quickly heated up so that you felt flush.

You yearned for him when he was gone, and never knowing when he would return, you lived for the times you got to lay in his arms, feeling the scruff of his beard against your neck as he kissed his way down your body to-

A knock on the door jarred you back to reality. Letting out a breath, you crossed the room, peeking through the side window to make sure it was who you expected. Your outfit was reserved for one person, and he was standing on the other side of the door.

Opening it and stepping to the side, you watched as Dean Ambrose walked in. Immediately, his scent enveloped you, leather from his bomber jacket, and spearmint from the gum he chewed. As always, he exuded confidence, but deep down you knew better, although you never called him out on it. That wasn’t part of your deal. Friends. With occasional benefits. That was the agreement.

“Hey, Doll,” he muttered, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Mmm, you smell good enough to lick.”

Beaming at him, you closed the door and turned to face him, taking feminine delight at the expression on his face when he saw your outfit.

“Damn, Baby, all that for me?” Reaching for you, he wrapped one arm around your waist and hauled you against him. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” you breathed, your heart still drumming loudly. A low moan escaped your lips as he trailed his own down the side of your neck. “Um, do you want a drink?”

Pulling back, he nodded, taking the chance to run his hand over your ass as you walked away. Your body was singing in anticipation of what the night would bring, so you added a little extra sway to your hips as you made your way to the kitchen. Quickly you poured whiskey straight over ice in two small tumbler glasses and returned to the living room, finding Dean sprawled out on the couch, his head nodding along to the soft beat of the song playing.

You handed him the glass, sitting next to him on the couch, leaving space between you. No matter how many times you did this, there was still those first few moments of doubt.

“How was your drive down?” you asked, sipping your drink. Your eyes roved over him, taking in his jean clad thighs and tight black t shirt. He had already taken off his jacket, leaving you free to gaze at his broad chest.

Lifting a shoulder in a slight shrug, he took a drink from his glass. “You know how it is.”

You didn’t, but you didn’t comment. Truthfully, conversation was never a strong point between you. Your bodies always did all the talking.

Silence stretched, both of you slowly sipping your drinks, listening to the soft music. Eventually, Dean turned his head to look at you. “You are too far away, Doll.”

A small smile graced your face. Getting up on your knees, you moved to straddle him, keeping your drink and robe aloft until you settled on his lap. “Better?”

Putting his drink down on the side table, he wrapped his large hands around your waist. “So much better. I like this top,” he mumbled, leaning up to kiss the tops of your breasts. The juxtaposition of his soft mouth and bristly beard was causing havoc in your panties, and you tried to still your hips as they pushed forward against the growing bulge in his pants. You didn’t want to rush the time you had with him.

His fingers sneaked under the fabric of the corset, rubbing your skin softly. Tilting his chin up, Dean looked at you. Unable to resist anymore, you leaned over him, capturing his lips with yours. Refusing to hesitate, you took charge, using his moan against him as you swept your tongue inside, rubbing against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and one hand delved into his hair.

His own arms snaked around you, hauling you close to his chest. “Damn, Doll. Miss me?”

You chose to keep silent. Of course you missed him. But you weren’t stupid, and he was very specific when the agreement was made. No commitment. Minimal communication. And absolutely no emotions. It was no use wishing or wanting what wasn’t available. That path led to disaster.

What _was_ available to you was the here and now. The few short hours that he was in your house. That time was yours, and damn if you were going to waste it on useless _feelings._

Dean’s mouth left yours, trailing down your neck to your shoulder. Quickly his hands pushed the sheer robe down your arms, caught in the crook of your elbows as you gripped his hair tighter. Nipping the skin he found there, he quickly soothed it with licks and kisses.

Breath hissed out of your lungs at every bite, but your blood was on fire. Your legs gripped his as you continued to try to resist his denim covered cock. You knew how delicious it would feel to rub yourself against it, but once you did, Dean would whisk you upstairs to your room to finish the night. Some things never changed, so you forced yourself to stay still.

“So fucking sexy in this robe, BabyDoll, but I want to see your skin. Take it off.”

Dean’s husky voice made your pussy throb. Leaning away from him slightly and setting your drink down beside his, you straightened your arms behind you, letting the fabric fall to the living room floor. Staying where you were, placing your hands on his thighs, you let him take a good look at your body.

Dean’s eyes seemed to glow, his pupils dilated as he licked his lips. One hand came up and traced the swells of your breasts, then slipping a finger into the valley they created and tugged on the front of the corset. “How do you get this thing off? Is it one of those tie-on ones?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. Dean was adorable when he was like this: sexy, curious, turned on, impatient. All those things appealed to you. Especially when he wanted you and you knew it.

Brushing a strand of hair off his forehead because you couldn’t help yourself, you bit your lip. “It zips. In the back.”

“Thank God,” he almost growled. Before you could register what he was about to do, he stood, keeping his arm around you until your feet were solidly on the ground. Quickly spinning you so that your back was to him, he swiftly unzipped the corset, causing it to fall before you could catch it.

“Dean!” you exclaimed. You had a plan, and this wasn’t part of it. Things were moving too fast!

Once again you were spun to face The Lunatic Fringe, and you watched as though in slow motion as he latched his mouth to your breast. A bolt of lightening streaked through your veins, a cry ripped from your lips. Slightly bent backwards over his arm, it was all you could do to keep your legs locked so that you wouldn’t collapse on the floor. Heat raced through you, from nipple to pussy, a direct line back and forth and he suckled hard, alternating between one to the other and back again.

You couldn’t time his ministrations, there was no pattern, nothing for you to grasp ahold of mentally to prepare yourself for the onslaught of sensations. All you could do was claw his arms and shoulders, moaning and whimpering, your hips gyrating in the air, desperate for some sort of friction.

Without pausing, Dean ran his large hand down your stomach firmly, letting you feel his intentions. Everything in you yearned for that touch, for the anticipation of where it would end up. You needed it, like air to live.

In essence, that was the problem with having an agreement with Dean Ambrose. In the moment, _feelings_ bubbled up, _feelings,_ like a dreaded F-word. You _felt_ everything, lust, infatuation, enthrallment, and at the end of the night, after a mind shattering orgasm, and right before he left, love. You _felt_ love.

Jarred back to reality by Dean’s questing fingers, you took a deep breath, knowing what he was going to do. Pushing the lace to the side, he tested your wetness.

“Mmm, Doll, always so wet for me.”

As he slowly pushed a finger inside you, your eyes closed and your head tilted back, allowing you to absorb the sensation of Dean’s lips against your collarbone and his large finger plunging into your depth. He didn’t wait long before he added another, causing a satisfied gasp to escape your throat.

Your nails dug deeper into his shoulder, and you wondered if there were going to be marks. But he didn’t stop you. If anything, he seemed to like it, growling anytime you scratched him a little harder.

He pulled his fingers out, kissing away your moan of protest. “Upstairs, BabyDoll. I want you spread out on the bed.”

Air felt cold on your body, your nipples tightening even more as you moved up the stairs to your bedroom. Every sensation was amplified, heightened, knowing Dean was right behind you, his eyes probably watching your ass as it moved. It was incredibly sensual, feeling that kind of power over him, a man who’s profession was to _be_ in power.

As you turned the corner into your bedroom, your king-sized bed dominated the room. Audacious, maybe, but you loved to curl up in the middle of it and feel swallowed up. It was comforting, a place of safety. And Dean knew it. He loved to take you out of your comfort zone on your bed, pushing your limits, knowing how much you wanted to please him.

“On the bed, on your back, neck hanging over the side of the bed.”

The demand shook you. It was something you’d never done before, and you weren’t really sure what he was going to do. Without looking over your shoulder at him, you moved to do as he said. Laying with your neck bent back, you watched upside down as he stripped his shirt and jeans off. Mild disappointment bloomed in you but faded as he pulled his briefs off. The sight of Dean’s dick always made you shudder. It was the perfect length for you, the perfect girth, and he absolutely knew how to use it.

He moved to stand in front of your face, his cock out jutting proudly. You caught the slight twitching, which almost made you grin. Dean always tried to seem in control, but his dick always told the truth.

“Suck. Keep your hands away.”

You felt wetness coat your thighs as he moved forward, sliding his cock in your mouth and down your throat. At this awkward angle, your gag reflux was less, but still present. That didn’t seem to deter Dean, nor did he seem to care when you choked a little, tears building up in your eyes. Just as you suspected, your mascara was going to be a mess.

Pressing firmly against the bed, you tried to keep your hands from reaching back to brace yourself on his thighs. It was instinct to keep your eyes closed, concentrating on breathing through your nose, even a you danced your tongue along the skin of his shaft.

Dean’s grunts filled your ears, and as they did, you felt yourself relax. This was new to you, and you weren’t sure if you were doing it the way he liked, but hearing his moans, you were suddenly filled with confidence.

One hand snaked between your thighs, catching the moisture building up. Lightly, you brushed your clit, just to feel the friction. A low moan caught in your throat as Dean continued to thrust into your mouth.

“BabyDoll what are you doing?” Dean asked, his voice husky.

Reaching up, you pushed against his stomach, making him step back. “You never said I had to keep my hands off myself.” Your upside-down grin was smug.

Chuckling, he scooped you up and flipped you over, crawling on top of you so that you were face to face. “No, I didn’t, did I? Well if you are going to take care of it yourself, what am I here for?”

Feeling playful, you said, “To watch, naturally.”

A low growl echoed in the room. “Then show me. Show me what you do when I’m not here, when you are thinking about me.”

His words hit a little close to home, but again, you dismissed them. He was just in the moment, not trying to allude to anything. As he crawled backwards, you spread your legs wider, showing him what he wanted to see. Sliding your panties off, you resumed your earlier actions.

Small, swift probes of your fingers, and a gentle rub on your clit. The motion was slow, but fire-building, a tease with no real relief. It was exactly what you would do after receiving a text from him, or while you were watching him on TV.

Dean’s eyes watched you, at first your facial expressions, and then moved down our body to your hands. It was a little disconcerting having someone watch one of your most private acts, especially when it was the person you fantasized about the most.

As your breathing picked up, Dean shifted suddenly, leaning down and attaching his mouth to your clit. A cry tore from your lips and your hands gripped his hair, allowing him to take you wherever he wanted. Groans and grunts escaped from him as he ate you out like a man possessed. He wrapped his arms around your legs, effectively holding you still even as your hips tried to press harder against his mouth.

He didn’t stay very long, earning him a growl of disapproval from you, but he reached up and fastened his lips to yours, staying your protest. “Sorry, Doll, but I can’t wait anymore. I have to feel you.”

In the back of your mind, your objection echoed. Your fear of the night moving too fast was becoming reality, but in the moment, you couldn’t, and didn’t want to, stop him. The warmth of his body, the passion of his kisses, had your brain short circuiting.

Wrapping your arms and legs around Dean, you kept your eyes focused on his. They were locked together, and you felt that familiar sensation of falling creep in as he pushed inside of you. Even as he began to move, his gaze didn’t stray from yours. He seemed to be looking for something, and you struggled to keep your eyes open, wanting him to, for once, see what you were feeling. Even if it was never said, you needed him to know, no matter the repercussions.

His thrusts were perfectly timed, the two of you wrapped close together, your nipples dragging across his chest hair, his hips pinning yours. This was the moment that was bliss and torture, a combination swirling around you as the two of you climbed higher and higher, joined in more ways than one.

A small shift of his hips had the base of his cock rubbing against your clit. “Fuck!” you yelled, the word ripped from your lungs. There was no stopping now, that tiny motion had set off the culmination of the evening, what you were both striving for, but for what you didn’t want to end.

“Do you want to cum, BabyDoll?” Dean huffed in your ear, his breath sending delicious tickles down your spine. “You look so beautiful, all flushed and moaning. I dream of this, did you know that? When I’m gone, I can’t wait to get back to you.”

As your body continued to react to his words, your brain stilled, and your heart stuttered. _Hope._ It was almost as bad as _feelings_. It felt cruel, and your fingernails dug into his back, almost as punishment. Desperately you tried to get back into the moment, tried to focus on the throbbing of your pussy and the friction of Dean’s dick pistoning in and out of your body.

“Please,” you moaned, unsure of what you were begging for.

Rearing up, Dean took you with him, sitting upright so that your legs hooked over his. The change in position meant you could grind your clit against him at will, which is exactly what you did, with abandon. _Feelings_ were growing, and suddenly you wanted the night over with as quickly as possible, so that you could reflect on Dean’s words in privacy. So he wouldn’t see you crumble from yearning.

Putting his hand low on your belly, Dean pushed back against you, effectively slowing you down. “What’s the hurry?”

Frustrated, you bit your lip, and shoved your face in the crook of his neck, one arm locked around his neck and the other gripping his bicep. He would never understand, so you tried again to focus on his body.

Flames gathered and spread, sweat breaking out on your body, adding to the friction. It was delicious, it was torture, and it was everything you ever wanted, all the time. Dean’s mouth licked and nibbled across your neck and up to your shoulder, his head nudging yours back so that he could kiss you. Your hips continued to drive forward, even against Dean’s hand, your purpose clear and decisive. You needed to finish, you needed to cum, you needed whatever he would give you, as fast as possible.

More grunts sounded from Dean, his forehead pressed firmly against yours, again staring directly into your eyes. “I’m close, Doll. Don’t look away. I want to see you cum on my cock. Understand?”

You nodded, breaths panting out aggressively. Yes, whatever he wanted, he got. Small demands, big demands, you would do anything for him.

Dean’s pace quickened, no longer methodically timed, but shallow and rapid. His cock dragged against your clit, and your pussy clenched, more wetness spilling out. A slight hitch of your breath was the only warning you had before you came undone, short screams bursting from you before you could control it.

“Damn, Doll! Shit!” Dean exclaimed as your pussy gripped his cock hard and didn’t let go. “I’m cumming!” Pulling out, he spurted on your stomach, not touching his dick with his hand.

Groaning, he fell to the side, with you still wrapped in his arms. His hands ran up and down your body, still riding the high of his orgasm, while you lay still, trying to keep your heart from shattering. Something about tonight was different. And deep down you feared if you couldn’t keep it together, you’d lose Dean forever.

“Shit!” Dean suddenly exclaimed.

In the quiet of the bedroom, the sound startled you. “What? What’s wrong?”

Turning his head to look at you, he looked slightly guilty. “I forgot your flowers in the car.”

Confusion crossed your face. “Flowers? You got me flowers? You’ve never showed up with flowers before.”

He smiled and leaned over to kiss your lips softly. “I know, but tonight was special. I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend. But I’m a dumbass who thinks more with his dick than his brain. Or heart, as the situation may be.”

Once again, your brain stilled, trying to put all the pieces together. “You want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yeah. Do you want that?”

 _Feelings_ exploded inside of you, and a huge grin spread across your face. “Yes, very much!”

Wrapping you up in his arms, Dean kissed you soundly. “I’m not going down there naked to get the flowers, though.”

Laughing, you ran your hands through his hair. “Fine, but next time, you should open with that.”

“Me naked with flowers?” he chuckled. His hand ran down your ribs to your ass, squeezing firmly.

“No!” you sighed. “With the flowers and girlfriend part.”

He gave a slight shrug. “You distracted me with that outfit you were wearing.”

Rolling your eyes, you curled up against his chest, you heart still drumming in your ears. You were unsure of the future, but the present was better than you expected.

Although, imaging Dean naked with flowers was pretty fascinating too.


End file.
